


Friends

by chacusha



Category: Final Fantasy Tactics
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 17:39:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19067437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chacusha/pseuds/chacusha
Summary: Mustadio teaches new chemist Marach how to operate a pistol.





	Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Fluff Bingo (2019 Q2). I was given the prompt of Friends with Marach & Mustadio. It's been a long while since I've played FFT, so please excuse any OOCness and incompatibility with canon. Also, while this fic uses War of the Lions names, I've (mostly) only played the original PSX version.

"Powder," Mustadio says, "paper, ball." He places these things one by one into the barrel, and then uses the thin rod to push them all down. After replacing the rod in the pistol, he lowers the end and indicates the pan. "More powder." He closes the frizzen. "Cock, aim..." He holds the pistol out, the motion confident and easy, pointing it at a tree. "And fire." The spark is barely visible and quickly drowned out by a loud bang. The man next to him winces at the sudden sound, but just slightly. "You got it?" Mustadio asks.

Marach nods. His face is serious and attentive.

"You try." Mustadio hands him the pistol.

Marach takes the gun and follows the procedure Mustadio demonstrated. Powder, paper, ball, ramrod, powder, cock, aim. Mustadio nods at each step to indicate Marach is doing it correctly. The man was an attentive learner and remembered it well. With the pull of the trigger, the bullet goes flying into the tree.

"See, it's a bit complicated to learn, but once you do, it doesn't take much skill. It's much easier to master than a bow or a sword. Some people dislike guns because mishandling can be dangerous. But it's not like bows and swords aren't the same way!" Mustadio laughs.

Marach just gives him a quizzical look.

"Just some humor," Mustadio says. Sometimes he finds something darkly funny about the unreasonably dangerous life he leads now. As a machinist, he has always been well-acquainted with the fact that machines have to be handled carefully lest they injure you. It is only in recent months that he has become much more familiar with the dangers posed by _people._ Particularly, people with weapons in their hand, who wish to kill you. But perhaps to an assassin, such an experience was less bizarre and strange. "Anyway," Mustadio continues, "using a gun is easy -- you just have to be careful with the powder and the flint, and do some regular maintenance. I can give you more tips on that later." Mustadio starts to put away all the gear he had taken out of his pack to demonstrate the loading and firing of guns. As he works, he says, "So you're training to be a chemist?"

Marach nods. Not much for words, Mustadio observes. He is reminded of Marach's sister, who was also fairly quiet and grim-faced, at least when she first joined up. Though she is still shy and soft-spoken, she is more comfortable around the group now, much more so than her brother. She has been with them for longer, so she knows the names of everyone and can laugh with the others. On the other hand, it hasn't escaped Mustadio's notice that Marach, the newest member of their party, still mostly keeps to himself and eats his meals in silence.

"Why did you choose chemist?" Mustadio asks.

Marach shrugs. "Ramza asked me to." He pauses before elaborating, "I suppose he is keen to ensure I have a way of healing myself in battle." Subconsciously, Marach's hand moves to grace an old wound -- perhaps the gunshot wound he received at the hands of Duke Barrington, one that had been miraculously healed. Or so people said -- Mustadio hadn't been there himself. "For some reason," Marach continues, "magic does not seem to have much of an effect on me."

If the stories about the miraculous healing are true, this seems an odd thing for Marach to say. But Mustadio supposes there are always exceptions to any rule. Everything packed up, the two of them head back to camp. "Well, you can't go wrong with learning chemist skills," Mustadio says as they walk. It's a fundamental skill, and having someone on the battlefield with a kit full of potions and phoenix down is always a good thing.

When they get back, Marach thanks him politely for the lesson in using a gun.

"No problem," is Mustadio's reply. The truth is, Ramza had asked Mustadio to do that too. Perhaps Ramza noticed that Marach did not have any friends in the group -- aside from his sister, of course. Later that night, as the group is eating their meal, Mustadio notices Marach, still on the fringe of the group, eating in silence. Rapha is at his side, but she too is quiet. They exchange a few words in low voices, but mainly they simply eat.

Marach looks up briefly, sees Mustadio, and nods in acknowledgement; Mustadio takes this as an invitation to sit down next to Marach and strike up a conversation with the man and his sister. Rapha looks relieved and thankful -- maybe it is not only Ramza who is keen to have Marach make friends with the rest of the group.

They make smalltalk about weather and food. It's not very interesting but people have to start somewhere. Perhaps it is because of Rapha's presence, but Marach isn't as cold and aloof as Mustadio expected. The man even laughs at a joke Mustadio makes. Their conversation catches the attention of others in the group, who drift in and out of the conversation, the ice broken. Sure enough, anyone who sticks around this campfire long enough eventually makes friends, even if it takes some a bit longer than others.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to do more established friendship fic for these two as they're both FFT faves for me, but I think I need to do a canon review before trying that.


End file.
